Genocide
by Mr. Gallows
Summary: Before the trophies, before the cybernetics, and before all the rage, there was a simple Kaleesh who was devoted to his people. In the days before the Battle of Geonosis, General Grievous seeks out to settle some old scores with the Huk, while laying to rest the ghosts of his past. All characters contained are owned by their respective creators/copyright holders. I own nothing.
1. Prologue

Genocide

Prologue

Darth Tyrannus marched hurriedly through the halls of his Geonosian stronghold. He flew past the inept droids and the frantic Geonosian workers, hurrying to complete the latest model of their newest killing machine. He had too much to deal with for this to be happening right now. He had to worry about securing the super weapon plans for his master, aligning the last of the tradesmen to the Separatist cause, overseeing the assassination of Senator Amidala, and a score of other problems. He could not afford to have his latest pet project running amok across the galaxy without supervision.

"A troublesome one this one will be," he thought as he walked into his command center and shut the blast door behind him. Hill should have altered his brain further to preemptively nix such insubordination.

The fallen Jedi regained his calm and collected demeanor and methodically entered the information to contact his quarry via their personal communication system. A blue ball of static appeared on his holoprojector. Clearly, his contact was too far off the network's reception.

"Come in, general," Dooku said with authority.

The scrambled image on the projector stirred, and Dooku could barely make out the phrase, "Yes, Count Dooku?"

Dooku scowled. "You are far off course, general. You were supposed to be back at Geonosis three days ago, but your ship's tracking device says you're somewhere in Wild Space. What are you doing?"

The ball of static chuckled. "Worry not, Dooku. I am simply attending to some unfinished business before our war gets underway. Don't you worry, Count, I wouldn't miss a chance to take Jedi lives for all the riches in the galaxy."

He furrowed his brow. "What business could you possibly have in that part of the galaxy?"

"I've still the mental faculties to remember those who've wronged me."

These words alarmed Dooku for a moment, before he realized that there was no way Grievous could know of his involvement in the accident.

"I will be back to Geonosis before I'm even missed," croaked the droid general before he deactivated the transmission.

Dooku sat in his chair and contemplated his master's choice in the former Kaleesh. "Most troublesome…"


	2. Chapter 1: Invasion

Chapter 1

Invasion

_"Spare me your noise, Hill!" Grievous barked as he threw on his cloak and began rummaging through his chambers on Muunilist._

_ "General," pleaded San Hill of the Intergalactic Banking Clan. "Please be reasonable. After all, we did have an arrangement did we not?"_

_ Grievous pulled open a series of drawers and pulled out his mummu skull war mask. "Indeed, we did banker." He began to slowly walk toward Hill. "We agreed that I would work for you so long as my people were kept out of harm's way and supported. We agreed that I would abandon my post as a protector of Kalee to act as your errand boy." He was almost breathing down Hill's neck now. "Now, since I was out acting as our thug, the Huk scum has desecrated our burial grounds!"_

_ Hill slowly backed away from the enraged Kaleesh, ever trying to appease his newest employee's hair trigger fury. "I understand your anger, commander, I really do. But-," _

_ "There is no 'but', Hill!" Grievous shouted as he ran across the room gathering his Outland rifle, swords, and the rest of his arsenal into a sling bag. "My forefathers were buried there, and your Republic encourages their shaming!" As he threw the last pistol into the bag, he began walking for the door. "There is no debate here. _The Martyr___leaves Kalee for Obden in three days. After we're done there we march on their homeworld. I'll send another in my stead if you wish, but make no mistake, banker. I am going." He turned his back on Hill and walked out of the room._

_ Hill chased after him in vain, imploring him to reconsider. "Please, come back, general! __Qymaen__!"_

_ The Kaleesh stopped immediately at the mention of his former name. He dropped his things and in an impossibly fast manner, ran at Hill, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and pinned the banker against the wall. _

_ "My. Name. Is. Grievous," he growled. He felt the fear welling up inside Hill every second he was in his grasp. Such a cowardly little being. There was no sense of honor in any of these IGB businessmen. He almost pitied them. Almost._

_ Hill fell to the ground when he let go of him. He went down on a knee to better speak to the cowering Muun. "There is no more Sheelal. Not anymore…" _

_ Grievous paused for a moment, recounting days long past and friends long gone. As he walked out of the building, he thought about how he would make the Huk suffer for their transgressions against him and Kalee. Against Ronderu. And while he didn't know how at the time how he was going to do it, the Republic, too, would be held accountable for their actions. Even if he had to march the __Kolkpravis into Coruscant himself, every last senator and Jedi was going to pay dearly. Plotting and scheming to himself, he could hear Hill shrieking out behind him._

_ "General, please! General Grievous! Grievous!"_

The bridge was in a frenzy. Every droid on board was making final preparations for the invasion, and the loud screeching of "rogers" filled the ship. Grievous sat at the command, dictating orders to the battle droids he had been allotted by Dooku. "Useless droids," he thought to himself. Such incompetence. Such stupidity. Though he admired their lack of remorse and their unfaltering commitment to their orders, it was nothing but programming. The bumbling robots lacked any sort of drive, ambition, or honor. He was used to commanding soldiers with heart and integrity. But, he supposed for the purposes of this mission, he'd have to make due.

One unit rushed up to him. "We've arrived, General. Your intelligence was correct. We haven't been able to detect a single power-source."

"Of course I was right!" he wheezed. "Now-," he had to stop to indulge in a fit of wet, uncontrollable coughing.

"Curse this body," he thought. The Geonosian do nothing but work with technology all day, yet they still fail to perfect their craft. Dooku and Sidious could boast about improvements until the dewbacks came home. He still knew he was denied a warrior's death by the damnable cybernetics.

"Begin landing the AATs and make a perimeter around the capital," he barked as he rose from his chair. He started making his way toward a large chest at the center of the control room. The red tinted light in the _Malevolence_ control room made his metal frame seem almost demonic as he marched. "As it falls, so too does the planet."

As he approached the chest, he entered in a short code on the side of the wall. The large container opened without a sound. "Make sure to equip the troops with flame and explosive based weaponry," he commanded as he pulled out his rifle and custom blaster. "They won't be able to hide in a burning jungle."

"Roger, General," squawked the droids as they ran to carry out their assignment.

He slowly turned around to his MagnaGaurds scurrying out the door with the rest of the droids. The very thought! The last remnants of his Izvoshra, his own elite fighting force, scrambling and running alongside the most inept warriors this side of The Outer Rim! "IG Units 101 to 105! Stand at attention!" With these words his bodyguards rushed over to his side, their already tattered cloaks fluttering behind them.

"You will be serving directly alongside me on this operation," he said as he paced the ground in front of them. "You know not fear, nor mercy. You have been trained in almost every form of combat known to the galaxy. You are all that remains of my most prized fighting force, and I expect you all to live up to that title. That is all. I will see you all on deck 12 in twenty minutes."

The droids marched out of the bridge one at a time until only the general remained. He walked over to the observation window to gaze at the planet below. "Soon," he thought. Soon every single bug on that planet would bend to his newfound power. They would know fear before it all ended, and they would beg for that end. And when it was all over, he would see to it that the Huk homeworld would never again be able to target his people. "Your days are numbered, you murderous scum," he said to himself. "And they have been since that day on the beaches of Jenuwaa…"


	3. Chapter 2: Devastation

Chapter 2

Devastation

Grievous sat quietly in the dropship as it approached the planet. The droids around him stood on edge and at attention as they always did. His bodyguards formed a tight semi-circle around their master, while the pilots made sure their arrival into the atmosphere remained smooth and steady.

He resolved that this wouldn't take long. Calling it a battle would be something of an overstatement. His strategy was without flaw, and he knew it. He had fought the Huk far too much to not know their every move, their every strategy, and their every weakness. He was their superior in every way, even before his reconstruction. But for all his genius and courage, the Huk had pinned his weaknesses. Before, the Huk had relied upon the fact that his Izvoshra were technologically impaired. They crutched on their guerilla tactics. They needed their stinking Jedi to fight their battles for them.

Now he had an army equipped with the best weaponry money could buy, he had the advantage of surprise, and most importantly, there would be no Jedi to interfere this time. "This time," Grievous thought to himself "I will have my justice. And every single Huk on that planet is going to pay with their lives."

His communicator activated and the voice of one of his sergeants rang through the speaker. "Sir, we've landed our forces in the jungle and are creating a perimeter just as you commanded."

Grievous chuckled. "Good, good. Now use your incendiary weapons to clear a path to the capital. You will find resistance to be minimal to non-existent. When you reach the city, the population will be contained in the ornate building at its center. Hold them there until I arrive. Crush any settlements or villages you encounter along the way. Show them no mercy!"

"Roger, roger, general!" the droid squawked before the communicator buzzed out.

Grievous sat up from his chair. If he still had a mouth, it would be smiling right now. As he walked across the floor of the ship and picked up his equipment, he couldn't help but pity the poor Huk. They had no way of knowing. They had no defenses competent enough to even hold him back now. It was going to be a massacre. For a moment, he actually considered calling off the attack.

But almost as quick as it left, the rage returned to him. How dare they assault his planet, enslave his people? And they _got away with it all_. After every parent killed, every child abducted, and every friend lost forever, they were still labeled as the innocent. They were little more than animals to him. And he was going to slaughter them like animals.

His magnaguard spoke up behind him. "Master," the droid said in a garbled, scratchy, mechanical voice, "Is it not questionable to attack a planet on a holy day?"

Grievous spun around and shot his elite a dirty glance. "An excellent question, 105," he said before he coughed. "When we get down there, you can ask the Huk themselves!" he shouted.

As the ship entered the atmosphere, he looked out to the planet below. Already he could see his troops cutting through the forests, in a

massive fiery circle.

_Qymaen ran hurriedly through the underbrush, going as fast as his little legs would carry him. He had been running for close to ten minutes, and had to have covered over a mile, but it still wasn't far enough. "Have…to…keep…running," he panted as he came to a slow halt. _

_ The four-year-old Kaleesh panted and gasped for air as he hunched over in exhaustion. He was so tired, but the fear outweighed everything else. The Huk had been harassing his people for quite some time (perhaps even before his birth, but he could never be too sure) but they never came in such force, and on a day like this._

_ He looked around him. He could see nothing but the green leaves and brown trunks of the trees around him, although he knew that the rainforest canopy sheltered him from much more disturbing sights. "How could this have happened?" he thought._

_ It was supposed to have been a joyous day, for celebration and reverence. It was his grandmother's feast day. So ferociously and so forcefully did she fight in the __Bitthævrian war that the very gods themselves allowed her to join their ranks upon her death. Everyone on Kalee was celebrating in honor of this latest addition to their heavenly pantheon when the Huk arrived en masse. Knowing that the day was a day of worship for the Kaleesh, they attacked without fear of organized retaliation. Using their more advanced weaponry, they launched a full-scale attack on several of the sacred temples and their surrounding villages._

_ Qymaen was partaking in the celebration with his mother and siblings when his father burst into the room. "Hurry!" he screamed in a panic as he kicked in the door and ran to Qymaen's mother. "Beloved, hide the young ones and fetch your spear! They're coming!"_

_ They bolted around the house with six of Qymaen's oldest brothers and sisters gathering all the blasters pistols, rifles, swords, and weaponry they could get their hands on._

_ As his family scattered around like frightened animals, Qymaen was struck dumbfounded. He stood staring at the chaos around him, feeling the rumbling of hundreds of Huk soldiers and slavers coming toward his home. And much to his surprise, he could only think of one possible way out: run._

_ It was either run or die for him. Surely, he had no doubt about his father and mother's ability to hold off the invaders, but he wouldn't last a second in the crossfire. Summoning all the might his young frame could muster, he tossed a chair through a window a few feet off the ground, creating an escape route for him and his siblings. "Hurry, get out of here!" he shouted as they fled out the window. One by one he watched as his brothers and sisters fled into the rainforest. "And find a safe place to hide!" he screamed as the last one vanished into the bushes. _

_ As he jumped out himself, he could hear the blaster fire and explosions behind him. He could hear the grotesque, wet, and rapid clicking of the Huk as they advanced. He could hear his older brothers and sisters screaming and shouting. And perhaps most haunting, he could hear the anguished screams of his parents as he retreated into the brush. _

_ "I didn't have a choice," he said to himself as he sat alone under the tree. "I was going to die. Father always praised the honor of a tactical retreat." And the more the young Kaleesh convinced himself his actions were justified, the more he started to believe in them. _

_ "Seems quiet," he thought after an hour or so of hiding. He looked scanned the area of the tree and could see no indication of any Huk in the area. _

_ No sooner did he remove himself from his hiding spot, did two heavily armed Huk soldiers drop from the canopy above. They hit the ground with a loud crash. They struck out after him faster than he could even think, and before he even realized what was happening, one of them had him in his grasp, dangling the youth from his pincer. _

_ As they brought him back toward their main camp, they continued on in their disgusting language. The clicking and squelching invoked fear and revulsion in Qymaen in equal measure. He knew the stories. He had no doubt he was about to either be executed or sold into slavery like the rest of his people. Despite knowing they wouldn't understand him, Qymaen uttered several of the vilest Kaleesh curses he could think of._

_ But even as one so young, Qymaen still had the blood of a warrior in him. "I will not die here," he thought to himself. "I have far too much left to do. I am the grandson of a damned god! I will not be sold like some livestock!" He darted his head around in a panic, looking for something, anything that would aid in his escape. _

_ When all hope seemed lost, he saw a glimmer of sunlight reflect off the captor's belt: a blaster. He overextended his arm grasping at the weapon, reaching desperately to land at least one claw on the thing. He closed his eyes in desperation when he felt the sting of cold durasteel on his flesh. Success! _

_ With a speed faster than he thought he was capable of, Qymaen pulled the weapon from the Huk's belt and fired away. _

_ Three shots. Thud._

_ Another four shots. Thud._

_ As he stood in the forest, hovering over the bodies of his first kills, Qymaen couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotion. Pride, joy, and confidence all swelled within him. And as he heard his father running toward him in the brush, he knew instantly what he wanted:_

_ More dead Huk._


End file.
